Summary: Stella Kisherman’s innovative approach to putting an end to her husband’s abusive ways starts a wonderful trend among the housewives of a small mid-western town.
Sam Kisherman had it made. No job, but a working wife who handled all the bills. He made good side money from his safe odds down bets on ball games and fights. A girlfriend on the side, and a good piece at home in his wife Stella.
The obvious drawbacks in this marriage that was so perfect for Sam, was the fact that he hardly ever bathed or shaved any more, drank a lot, slept all the time, and was very brutal with his wife whenever he felt like making love. With his girlfriend Denise, he was gentle and caring, but the way he treated his wife in bed was very close to rape. He never asked her if she was in the mood. Never petted her gently in the beginning, but simply took her vulgarly and brutally.
Poor Stella worked hard all day, and had accepted her role in life as the way things were going to be. She was very unhappy, but figured most woman had to be content with things being a little kinky like she did.
One Friday evening Sam had really gotten drunk. He grabbed Stella as she was fixing her hair in front of her vanity. He literally pulled her by her long reddish brown hair to the bed, ripped her bathrobe away, and tried to fall on her and make penetration. But the booze had stopped his erection, and he pulled her to her knees forcing her mouth on to his long soft snake-like penis. Unwashed, it smelled terrible, and she wanted to throw up, but he held her head in place, managed to erect and forced her to swallow his dirty seed. Then he fell asleep across the bed.
She cried for hours, but finally fell asleep. The next day was Saturday and she took off early in the afternoon as she did every Saturday, to shop and browse, but mostly to get away from Sam. He did not really care as he liked to visit Denise every Saturday afternoon to make love.
By mid afternoon Stella had run out of shops to visit and was walking down Miller Ave. In the heart of town. The sun was shining and she wanted to make the day last as long as was possible. She dreaded Saturday night with Sam.
Then she spotted the sign for the town library. A turning point in her life, although she did not know it at the time.
Stella wondered in, out of simple curiosity, and wanting something to do. Although she was not an avid reader, she did enjoy a good romantic love story once in a while.
So she browsed, drifting up one aisle and down the other. She picked up a book here and there, glancing through it. Before long she had sauntered into the “Aberrations” section. The title of the hardbound novel on the center shelf caught her eye immediately: “The Eunuch”. She picked it up, fingered through the strange erotic pages, and finally had to take a seat to read it thoroughly.
Being an innocent naive woman by nature, she was shocked to find these true tales of men being castrated by kings in olden days and then used as servants and Greek slaves. She was disappointed to finally read the end. She had no idea at that moment just why the stories had been so intriguing to her.
She searched the shelves some more, but could not find specific eunuch material. Then she realized how late it was getting, and she knew she had better get home to prepare Sam’s dinner. As she neared the information booth she asked the young black female attendant if they had Sunday hours, and was delighted to find that they did. She wanted to to ask the very friendly girl how she might find more reading material on this bizarre subject, but was too ashamed. Perhaps tomorrow.
Sam was not at home when she arrived, so she started dinner. About an hour later he came in with a friend, another dirty drunk. She knew better than to say anything or Sam might hit her, so she fed the two of them and tried to stay out of their way as best she could. Later Sam called her to bring them both a cold beer.
“How do you like the tits on my old lady, Mike?” They both laughed. “C’mere honey, I want Mike to see your boobs.” Stella tried to leave the room quickly, but Sam grabbed her blouse, ripping it half off her. “Hey bitch, you want to make me look bad in front of my friend?” He tore her bra free, and she began to cry. Sam fondled her big pink tipped breasts, laughing, asking Mike if he had ever seen a better pair of jugs in his whole life.
“Hey Mike, you want a damn good nice blow job? Hi sweetie, you going to blow Mike for me? Huh wife? You better, bitch, or I’m going to knock you silly. Now get your ass over to Mike and take his prick out and suck it good?” Stella was crying profusely and still refused. Then Sam kicked her in the rib cage and she fell on her side clutching her bruised ribs.
Terrified that he might really hurt her, Stella made herself slide on her knees to this ugly grinning drunk who sat there with his legs spread lewdly. Afraid to look into his eyes, she reached for his belt buckle. “You’re going to love this, Mike ol’ buddy, love it.”
She had to reach into his twisted dirty shorts to find the enormous red sausage-like penis. Although it was totally soft due to his drunken state, it was huge, and she needed two hands to work it free. “Goddamn Mike, you are hung, you know that man? Hey Stella, get busy, get my fuckin’ friend hard.”
Stella amost vomited as she smelled it when she closed her mouth over the huge bulbous head, as she licked the head and held the soft shaft in two hands. It started to grow bigger and bigger. “Damn Mike, ain’t no woman ever going to let you put that thing in her twat.”
Now it was very hard, and Mike had grabbed her hair, and was pulling her sad head up and down. The enormous head was almost gagging her. “Ride her cowboy. How’s it feel? Huh, Mike?”
Soon he was almost tearing her hair out by the roots. “C’mon you motherfuckin’ bitch, suck my prick, get it all, baby!” The sperm shot out like a cannon, filling every cavity in her mouth. She was crying, but had to swallow just to get the sperm down to allow her to breathe.
Afterward she sat there staring at the floor sobbing quietly. Sam had gotten up and was fondling Mike’s long thick soft penis while Mike sat there grinning at him. “Damn, this is something else, Mike. It would make three of mine.”
Suddenly, Sam decided to use Stella, sodomy-wise. She tried to rise, to run, but Sam carried her to the hassock and threw her down over it. She felt him pulling her dress up over her waist and ripping her panties off.
“Please Sam, don’t do this. It is not natural. Please Sam, not in front of a stranger. I am your wife, Sam, please!”
“Shut up, bitch! I’m going up your ass and Mike is my best friend, sure wish I had his prick. I could probably get it up to your mouth.” They both laughed as Sam was aiming his hard penis at her small puckered, and virgin, anal ring. He tore into her, causing her to scream out as she had never screamed before. He rode her lewdly, vulgarly, atrociously. When he finished and pulled free, blood covered his softening organ.
Both men fell asleep while Stella still lay over the hassock crying and shivering.
Luckily, they slept all night, and in the morning she managed to shower and get out of the house early. Her anus hurt very much as she waited for the bus to take her downtown. She did not yet know just why, but Stella had to get to the library.
She was waiting outside at ten minutes to ten, and when the doors opened, she was the first one in. She did no want to search all over the place, so she decided to get the courage up and ask for help at the information desk. She felt better to see the same black girl on duty who had been there the previous day.
“Perhaps you can help me?”
The girl was very warm and friendly, which made it all the easier for Stella to talk to her. “Yesterday I read a book entitled ‘The Eunuch’. I thought it was fascinating, and was wondering if there is more on the subject..”
The young black girl could sense how nervous and embarrassed Stella was, and remembering her from the day before, she thought she would try to relax her some.
“Certainly. I find subject matter like that very interesting, too. Anything that puts a man in his place. Let’s check the files.”
In a few minutes the young girl had compiled a list for Stella and directed her to the various areas where she might find what she was looking for. Stella finally sat down with eight books, three technical, and five biographical or auto-biographical. She read fron ten thirty until well past three without a break of any kind. She was fascinated, and during her solitary study session, Sam did begin to pop up in her head.
She needed more, she went back to the young black girl. “Thank you for all your help. I was wondering if there might be any reading matter dealing with the operation itself, actual castration techniques, manual medical information.”
The young librarian finally led Stella to a small room off the balcony level. It was filled with medical texts. “Let’s see now, F-34, J-32, and let me see, K-22. Yes, here we are. Those should help you. They deal with actual medical cases of operations, both in official surgical rooms, and on-the-spot castrations done as criminal punishments in various countries where that is the penalty for things like rape and rape-murder.”
She noticed the mad glint appear in Stella’s eyes when she mentioned the razor sharp word “rape”.
“This is probably none of my business, but I do find your fascination with this subject very interesting. If you would like to discuss it further over coffee, I would love to hear your thoughts. Is your interest personal, or technical?”
“Personal.”
“Then I really would like to have that cup of coffee with you. But for now, I have to get back to work and you have some reading to do.”
Stella tackled the books with a new relish. The pretty black girl was interested even though Stella had told her it was a personal matter. She must have some inkling of what Stella was feeling. She read and read. When she reached those sections that dealt with on-the-spot castrations, without benefit of a surgical room, she was pleasantly shocked to find that the whole operation, the whole procedure, was simple and clean, calling for limited skills and tools.
As she was leaving the library, just before closing time, she stopped at the desk. “Thank you for all your help. I am not sure just yet what my plans are, but would tomorrow night be convenient for coffee?”
“It sure would. My name is Wanda, and yours? Stella. Hello Stella. I get off at five. You too? Good. How about the Donut Nook on 18th street? About five fifteen tomorrow afternoon? I can hardly wait. I am fascinated, and yet I am not sure just why. Bye bye.”
Sam did not question Stella on her whereabouts because he had been with Denise all day, had drunk his supper and then fallen asleep on the sofa. Stella sat there looking at him. His dirty clothes, his unshaven face, his brutal hateful bearing.
“I could do you right now, Sam, while you are asleep. Just grab a paring knife, and, Zip! You would never hurt me again, ever. But, no. No, that’s too easy. I want you to know it’s happening, to see me working on you. But how? I have gone this far, I intend to do it right. But you will be a eunuch soon, Sam, and then my slave, my clean obedient eunuch slave.”
At work the next day, Stella was trying to figure out a way to do it. To do it right. She needed help. Females just like her who could enjoy this crazy urge to castrate worthless men. How could she contact them? How could she weed them out? An Ad. A carefully worded Ad. in the personal column of the local paper. She needed a post office box. At lunch time she was fortunate enough to get one at the post office right down the street from where she worked.
That afternoon it was quiet in the office and Stella carefully composed her new Ad:
“Frustrated and abused housewife seeks similar women who feel matters have gone too far. P.O. Box L-2334, Amsterdam, Ohio.”
She met Wanda for coffee, and they simply chatted, avoiding the subject they both wanted to discuss. Finally, Stella could stand no more, she blurted it out, staring to cry as she did.
“I intend to castrate my husband. He is a bastard. He beats me, abuses me, and now even offers me to his drunken friends. I intend to make him into a eunuch.”
Wanda stared at her in disbelief. “Oh wow. Oh shit. I had a feeling you were going somewhere in a big way, Stella. But now that I heard it, I cannot believe I heard it. But yeah, shit yeah. I got a man who screwed me bad, lady, and I can really dig cutting his balls off, too, but yours first.”
They were both so happy that the secret feeling each had concealed was mutaully shared. Stella told Wanda all about the Ad. and that she wanted to castrate her husband, Sam, while he was wide awake and helpless. It was almost eight P.M. before they finally said goodnight.
Sam punched her around that evening because she was late preparing her dinner. He raped her on the kitchen floor, cutting her lip with his fist. As she lay there, being banged brutally against the cold linoleum, sipping the warm blood from her bruised lips, she thought of what was soon to come and this helped her to bear up under the obscene assault by her “legal” spouse.
The mail was unbelievable. Sixteen letters the first day. All but two were small problems from women who would never understand or go for Stella’s bizarre plan. But she called the two numbers and after a few minutes of basic conversation, Stella dropped the bomb and they both hesitated, but then finally admitted the idea was phenomenal. They agreed to meet with Stella and Wanda that Friday evening for coffee. By Thursday, Stella had phoned four more out of approx. seventeen more letters. But one was a definite “no no”, and three agreed to the coffee clatch Friday night.
That Friday evening, seven women, three black, met at the coffee shop. The seven included both Stella and Wanda. This was almost perfect. Stella had figured on half a dozen or so.
The discussion went very nicely, with Stella telling them that she was sure she could safely perform the operation in a matter of minutes with no after effects. It was agreed by all, that since this was her idea, her creation, that her Sam was to be the first victim, with the ladies helping her to subdue him. It was arranged that all six of the women would come to Stella’s home the following Saturday evening at eight.
That Saturday, Sam was watching TV, not as drunk as usual, but still high from his fifth bottle of beer. Stella was in the kitchen, very very nervous about the whole situation. She had made all the necessary purchases, and was ready. She jumped ten feet when the door bell sounded. It was Wanda. Sam was delighted to see this gorgeous black chick, and forgot a about his TV show. While he was chatting to Wanda, the doorbell sounded again. In fifteen minutes all six women were present. Sam was getting vulgar again, patting asses, asking Wanda if all black women dug big pricks.
He did not notice how nervous the ladies were, nor did he care. Wanda could not stand his bad breath, but she was trying to do her part while the ladies tried to relax and get their thoughts together.
Whispering among themselves, the ladies had agreed to let Sam force one of them down on the sofa. It turned out to be Wanda. As he sat there next to her, fondling her full breasts through her sheer blouse, Stella prepared herself, staring hard at the crotch area of his baggy trousers and trying to visualize where his testicles would be as he sat in that position.
Then, as he was trying to French kiss the black girl, and Wanda felt like throwing up, Stella reached down and closed her hand over the area where she figured his balls lay. She hit the target right on the head. Sam screamed out, “Jeusus holy Christ, Stella, let go woman, you’re rupturing me!” But Stella held fast. “Open his trousers Wanda.” The black girl did, and a hard red penis popped into view.
Sam tried to rise twice, but Stella squeezed harder, warning him to stay put. “Get the ropes ladies and tie his hands behind his back.” Sam looked up at her nervously. Stella had never seemed this determined. “Hey now, ropes? Why ropes, girls? Anything you want to do, I want to do. Hey Stella, c’mon, the joke is over. Damn you woman, let go of my balls! Hey you bitches, get your hands off of me! Hey damn you!”
Sam was no match for the determined women who actually bent him forward in his sitting position, and force his arms behind his back. He felt the ropes being tied, too damn tightly, and continued to curse them all.
Seven angry women can be more than a match for a young sober athletic male, never mind a half drunk middle aged man. He was pulled to his feet, and forced to walk into the kitchen. The long narrow table had been cleared of everything. Stella directed the whole operation, seemingly quite calmly, but her heart was beating rapidly. It was then that she realized she was having mini-orgasms that were saturating her panties.
Sam was forced onto the table and then onto his back. It was obvious he had no real idea of what was about to happen, as his penis was still erect, probably from the physical closeness of these women. “Get his trousers and shorts off, ladies.” They did so, rather easily. This was due to the fact that Sam was kicking in front of his prone body, while the ladies were working on each side of him.
A rope was passed over Sam’s waist and one girl knelt under the kitchen table to secure it. Then one knee was being tied, the rope run under the table and tied to his other knee, spreading his legs lewdly, but precisely the way Stella wanted them to be for her surgical handiwork. Finally, another rope was run over his neck and under the table. With his hands tied behind his back, he was helpless. The ladies backed off to stare down at him, defiantly, while he cursed at all of them, especially Stella, threatening to beat her to a pulp when he got free.
Then the room got very quiet as Stella laid out her surgical implements which had been boiling in hot water on the range. The ladies gathered closer, all very nervous, but very excited, too. They were each undergoing the same mini-orgasms that Stella felt. That afternoon she had replaced the small overhead kitchen bulb with a three hundred watt one that lighted his groinal area beautifully.
“What the hell are you doing down there? Damn you, Stella, answer me. Do you hear me? Damn your pig headedness!”
Sam was frightened now. He did not know why, but he both felt and saw the electric tension in each of the silent females, a waning that something major was about to take place. His body jumped nervously as she poured alcohol onto his penis and balls to cleanse the area.
Then Wanda produced the small kerchief with the crushed ice in it. Stella made sure it covered his balls completely before she tied it in a little bow. Now they had approx. a five minute wait while the ice numbed the area to be worked on.
“Well Sam, tonight is the end of the line for you. No more rapes, no more ugliness. Do you want to know why, Sam?” He tried to lift his head to look at her eyes. He was trembling now, totally sober. The women stared at him, getting hyper.
“I’m going to castrate you, Sam. Don’t understand do you? I am going to turn you into a eunuch, Sam. Your sex life as you once knew it is all over now. Oh, it won’t hurt, not much anyway. The ice will take care of that. But in a few more minutes you will no longer have any balls, Sam.”
Wanda told her the five minutes was over. The cold ice packed kerchief was removed. He felt something, but could not tell what due to the numbness. Stella was sliding his one ball upward in the sac, giving her loose folds of skin near the base to make her tiny incision.
“What are you doing there, Stella? This is all a grand joke, right? Well ladies, you sure fooled me! Now untie me if you please!”
“No joke, Sam. The jokes are all over.”
With the recently purchased scalpel, Stella carefully and nervously cut a small thin line at the base of his ball sac, approx. one inch long. A little blood showed, but not too much. She then worked the ball down again, toward the tiny slit. Then she delicately used the scalpel to slide over and around the ball, inside the sac, freeing it completely form it’s inner housing. Then she pressed again from the outside, and it came free, flopping dully to the table top, a reddish pink almost totally circular human testicle.
The women stared, one gripped the table surface as her orgasm became too intense. Stella carefully picked the tiny marble-like object up in her hand. She was breathing unevenly. It felt semi-hard, yet delicately mushy. It had been so damn easy, just like the book had said. Sam was not sure if he really felt pain or not.
Stella knew she had better continue before the effects of the ice had a chance to wear off. The second ball came free exactly like the first, with no problems. Wanda handed her the needle with the cat gut attached, and she began to stitch the two tiny incisions.
Sam felt a burning sensation. “Goddamn it, Stella, cut out this teasing! Untie me, woman! Damn it, you’re hurting me down there! Stop it, Stella! Oh shit! Hey, oooohhhhh.”
The area was washed clean with alcohol again. The whole operation took three minutes. No bleeding, no bad news. Stella held the two balls over Sam’s face. The girls all looked closely, first at his frightened eyes, then at the two delicate membranes in Stella’s hands.
“It’s all over, Sam. Here they are. You’re a eunuch now.”
Although the other ladies were very nervous about untying Sam, Stella sensed that he would never be hitting her again, and they obeyed her command to remove all the ropes. After he was free, Stella helped him to sit up. The ice coldness was wearing off, and Sam was flustered, unable to understand what was happening. He looked from woman to woman, trying to get some kind of an answer.
“Here, Sam, open your hand. Those are your balls, dear. Can you understand now?” He looked from his hand to Stella’s eyes. She was not laughing at him, not ridiculing him. His hand went to his groin. When he felt the empty sac, the skin lying in useless folds under his penis, he began to softly cry. Stella wrapped her arms around his shoulders, cuddling him.
“Cry sweetheart, get it all out of your system. I am going to take good care of you from now on. You will get used to things being different. But you will always have me, but in a much different way. I am going to train you to be my husband slave, my servant. Your mouth is going to take the place of that foul penis. It will be an ornament from now on. Nothing else. Come dear, let me help you upstairs to bed.”
The group watched as Stella helped the half nude man up the long stairway. The two balls had fallen from his hand and Wanda had picked them up. “Oh shit, I cannot believe this. Did it really happen? My damn pants are soaked! These are real balls and Stella took them off her husband’s body! Damn, am I getting horny! Is that natural?”
They all laughed and relaxed as the nervousness slowly wore off. The drinks were passed around. Stella came down smiling, quietly proud of what she had done. Sam was sleeping like a baby. They discussed the next husband to be done, Wanda’s, then each woman in order. The training process of each man after he became a eunuch was also discussed.
The weeks passed by. Quiet secret operations took place in different homes and apartments all over the city. As each woman trained and disciplined her new man, the information was passed back and forth with everyone benefitting from the results attained by another woman.
Finally, they were ready for their first party. It would be held at Stella’s. The ladies arrived with their spouses wearing normal everyday male attire, but that was only to keep their secret just that, a secret. Once inside the house, each husband had to go to the laundry room in the rear of the house, strip naked, and return to their wives, standing quietly at their sides, while the women chatted and laughed over cocktails.
Stella produced a roll of adhesive tape. “If we went to all the trouble to remove their balls, the least we should do is take their penis out of the way so we can see the results of our labors.”
Stella sat on the sofa and summoned Sam to her. He stood there quietly, passively, while she lifted his lifeless penis up against his belly and taped it there. Each eunuch husband had to stand before her for this ritual.
Stella began to laugh as she looked at all the soft flabby penises pointing up to heaven. “They almost look erect, girls, but we know better, don’t we? But this way, that empty bag is where we can see it, and touch it. I don’t know about you girls, but I get very horny holding Sam’s testicle bag, and after a few minutes of rubbing it, I must have his very sexy mouth and tongue. Wanda dear, would you be offended if I wanted to rub your spouse’s bag? I have never touched a black man, and you did his surgery yourself.”
“Be my guest, Stella dear, but no eunuch swapping.”
Everyone laughed at this very appropriate joke. Stella summoned Charlie over, and once he saw the permission given visually by his wife, Wanda, came to attention before Stella, who was still sitting. His sac was big, and she remembered hat his balls had been quite big, too. She rubbed his sac in the palm of her two hands. She loved the silky feel, the emptiness.
“Sam, get me a drink. Oh, this feels so good, ladies. This may sound shameful, but in a moment I am going to have to engage in sexual intercourse with my high flying husband. I hope you will not think we are vulgar.” Again the laughter.
Stella rose and slid her pink panties out from under her chiffon dress. “Sam, lover, come over here and make love to me right now. Show these excuses for men what real love making is all about.” Sam fell to his hands and knees, and his head disappeared under the chiffon cloak hiding him. “Oh Sam, you are the best lover in the whole damn world, do you know that?”
His tongue curled, slid under soft delicate warm flesh, found spots that his wife loved. His pleasure was in his tongue. He felt it, loved it. Sam was there. He had arrived.